Post Damned
by Blood of the Dawn
Summary: I mean Potsdam Conference. World War II hasn't ended yet but England is worried another war is about to break out.


**To my repeat offenders- I mean my previous readers- whassup? (I know I should be working on WtJ- and I am. If you want to know about my progress on that, check my livejournal (which is under the same name as this.)) To my new readers- how you doing?**

**Not all of this is historically accurate- some I'm romanticizing you could say and while some of this is from history books some is from wikipedia so if something is inaccurate just tell me!**

**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize I don't own.**

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**Potsdam, Occupied Germany **

**16 July, 1945**

"Braginski!" America thundered as he stalked into the conference room. England and Russia both looked up- England with a resigned sigh and Russia with a wide, childlike grin.

"Jones**(1)**," The taller nation greeted him calmly as he strode to the table the pair occupied. America slammed his hand down on the scratched surface and glared over the rims of his glasses.

"You can't do that," The blond informed the communist stiffly. Russia raised an eyebrow but otherwise stood with an air of serenity.

"Do what, comrade?" He asked in his typical childlike voice. The teenager gritted his teeth.

"Okay, one, don't call me comrade like we're best buddies or something- cuz we're not, and you know fucking well what you did." America growled when all Russia did in response was smile at him in polite bewilderment. "You know! Hungary! Poland!"

"Da?" The Russian encouraged as his voice deepened almost imperceptibly. By this point, America was practically shaking with rage.

"They're communists!" The blond exploded finally, "They're communists now! And don't even try to act like it was by their own choice! We made a pact, dammit!"

"Did we?" Russia hummed and the younger jerked slightly as if to lunge at the communist. The silver-haired man's hand flashed towards his gun holster. England took that moment to remind the pair of his presence.

"Guys!" He protested, throwing his hands in between the two taller nations. "Stop it!"

America skillfully ignored him in favor of the commie bastard in front of him, "You can't do that." He repeated verging on desperate as he glared fiercely at Russia.

"You can't tell me what to do, Jones," He responded. Though his expression never changed, his voice deepened further and the surrounding air crackled around the pair with tension.

"Guys..." England tried again though he knew they weren't listening. This was going downhill fast. It wasn't like he hadn't seen something like this coming. Winston has realized that the Soviet Union and Stalin weren't what one would call trustworthy. But the blond didn't think they'd make their move so soon! The older nation eyed the healing scar on Russia's face and the bandages peeking out from beneath America's bomber jacket with regret. Russia was still healing from heavy losses and America was still dealing with Japan! They weren't ready for another war already.

"This isn't about telling you what to do! We trusted you! You broke your promise!"

"Promises are meant to be broken. They mean nothing, little America. I would've thought you'd have learned this by now."

"What is that supposed to mean, you bastard?"

World War II- England had to repress a shiver at the thought they'd had not one but two wars to end all wars- hadn't even ended yet and the pair was butting heads. They were supposed to be allies- well France and himself were supposed to be enemies but... That was different! America was hiding something. Something big. The older blond almost felt sorry for Japan for whatever America was planning to threaten him with.

"You are young and stupid, Jones, do well to remember that."

"Young and stupid? I'm the innovator- the land of opportunity! I'm fucking leading the times!"

"Ah, but you are not yet savvy in the ways of the nation's world, da?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Ah, always asking the same questions." Russia smirks down at America, "But never the right ones." The blond was trembling and Arthur reached out to his former ward. The taller nation moved out of England's range but at his hurt look slowly started to relax. After a few silent moments, America turned back to Russia with a cold smirk.

"At least I can get on top without completely ridding my people of their happiness," The blond stated and Russia's face fell. An ugly look replaced his ever present smile and his aura flared. England took an automatic step back but America stood his ground.

"My people are happy," The Russian seethed. America tossed his head back and winked.

"Of course, they are," He drawled and Russia's hands curled into fists. England made a motion to step forward but the killing intent coursing through the air held him back.

"Uh, Mr. Jones?" A timid voice cut through the tension and all three nations turned to face the young secretary. England let out an inaudible sigh of relief when he saw both superpowers relaxing. "U-Uh- Mr. President wants to see you.**(2)**" The American smiled cheerfully at her and turned away from his allies.

"Thank you, Miss Doe, I'll get right on that." He informed her before angling his head slightly to nod at his fellow nations. "I'll be back within ten minutes." With that he strolled out of the room. Though the grinning nation was gone there was still a thickness in the air that was making England nervous.

"Now, now, comrade," Russia turned to him, "No need to be so worried." His voice was back up to its childlike pitch. England tried not to gulp or shrink back in fear. Russia turned back to the door with a smile. "I wonder if Jones's experiment went well.**(3)**"

England started at that. Experiment? Is that what America is hiding? But why would Russia know about it then? Why not someone else like Canada…?

"Experiment?" England finally asked and the taller nation began rocking on his heels.

"Da." He affirmed but gave no more away. Before the blond could ask anything else, America reentered the room.

"Good news, I take it?" England comment as he took in the younger nation's smile. He tried to ignore the niggling feeling in the back of his mind.

"Yup!" America exclaimed cheerfully, seemingly back to his usual self. "Now, let's get down to business." He slammed his hands on the table and angled himself so he was facing more towards England than Russia.

"Let us get to it then," The Russian agreed happily and the youngest blond flinched minutely.

England sighed. He had a bad feeling about this.

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**1: I feel that the use of human names can be considered demeaning if used by nations they aren't friends with and here they're using it as a means of demeaning each other but also acknowledging that they _may _be worthy rivals. Confusing? So is their relationship. ;)**

**2: The day the Potsdam conference started is also the day they tested the atom bomb in Arizona.**

**3: (According to wikipedia at least) Stalin had spies in the Manhattan Project and actually knew about it before Truman did.**

**If they're OOC I'm sorry! First time writing for the Hetalia fandom and I wrote a serious fic.**

**Anyways, review, if you please Til next time!**

**~Dawn**


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